The Pioneer Boys of the Ohio; or, Clearing the WildernessRathborne, St. George
General
The Pioneer Boys of the Ohio; or, Clearing the Wilderness
Rathborne, St. George
Frontier and pioneer life -- Juvenile fiction; Ohio River -- Juvenile fiction
The axes sounded through the livelong day, as the settlers continued
to clear away the woods which shut them in so closely. The further
the fringe of nearest trees could be moved back, the freer would they
breathe; for it seemed as though enemies must ever be lurking in the
gloomy depths of the dense forest.
Fish were taken from the river with the utmost ease, and furnished many
a fine meal, though many of them were of a species utterly unknown
to any of the settlers. Blue Jacket had said they were good to eat,
however, and so they had been found on testing them.
The cabins continued to arise, as it were, in a night. In this duty the
new settlers always assisted one another when the time came for the log
raising, since what was the interest of one must ever be the interest
of all.
As fast as the trees were cut down, the virgin soil was turned over,
rich as it was in valuable leaf mold, and some of the seeds, so
carefully hoarded during the long journey from their Virginia starting
place, were planted.
It was wonderful what rapid changes took place in that favored spot.
Every sunset saw new cabins being topped with such rude shingles as the
newcomers could hew from the timber which was so plentiful. No sooner
was a cabin finished than the fortunate family would move in. Little
they cared that there was not a piece of furniture awaiting them; and
that tables and seats would all have to be made. A sound roof over
their heads in case of storm was the main thing; besides, no doubt the
women naturally felt safer behind stout walls, rather than settled in
tents, or make-shift shelters of branches. They could not easily forget
the terrors of that awful night when the Indians had attacked the
camp, and looked eagerly forward to the day when the entire settlement
might have a strong blockhouse where all could find safety in case of
sudden need.
Then, by degrees, came the work of making things more comfortable for
the women. Nearly every man could use fairly well the primitive tools
of the day; and where this skill were lacking he might exchange his
abilities in some other line with a more accomplished neighbor, so that
the necessary deal table, and the benches, as well as bunks, or rude
beds, for sleeping, were secured.
Certain of the members of the little community were given other tasks.
Food had to be secured, and fortunately there was no lack, with the
adjacent river to supply plenty of fresh fish for the taking, and the
bountiful store of game awaiting the coming of the marksman.
Thus, in a very brief space of time, things began to take on a homelike
appearance. Outdoor cooking might still be indulged in to a great
extent; but there would also be times when the tempting venison roast
would again be made ready for the table by the turning of the familiar
spit over a fire of red ashes on the big hearth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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